


The Ghost of Jane Seymour

by la_belle_chanteuse_anne



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:08:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4700321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_belle_chanteuse_anne/pseuds/la_belle_chanteuse_anne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A revamped version of Jane`s conversation with Henry in The Tudors. I played more off the idea that she resents him for what he has done to her son and her blaming him for Edwards fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost of Jane Seymour

She had been watching over her son for his whole life. She liked to think that she knew as much about him and his life as his nursemaids did. She cherished all the milestones in his life the way she would have if she had been alive for them. His father however, she had quickly stopped looking for.

She had been quite fond of him for a time, but her son came first. After watching him coddle her son in a way so that he might never become a man, she had grown to resent him. The way he had mistreated Anne of Cleves, the way he had killed Katherine Howard, it sickened her. There was no doubt in her mind that he was no longer the sweet man she had married. Or perhaps that it had been a front for her, the woman carrying his heir, that he had never been that man.

Still, as his life approached its end she decided to visit him. She was given the oppurtinity to go to him first, and so she did. She appeared to him in the empty ballroom, her clothes dark in mourning. She didn’t dress the please him or relive happy memories. Nor did she mourn for his approaching death. She mourned for her little boy who would never become a man.

“Jane” he seemed not to believe she was there

“Henry, how is my son?” She wasted no time on pleasantries with him. She was not the soft flower that had withered and died in his marriage bed, she was strong now. She didn’t need his approval now.

“Our boy is well. I have taken great care with him.” He seemed proud of himself, it made her anger flare up deep in her chest.

“Is he? Did you? My son who may not even ride a horse, who may not play like a boy of his age should? My son who will certainly never lead a hunt or ride a joust? He is smothered by your fear Henry.” She raised her head at him with an impudence she never would have dared in life.

“I have protected him, because I loved him so Jane. As I loved his mother.”

“Do not speak to me of love Henry. I was forced to watch you steal my son`s childhood away from him, and deny him the strengths of manhood. Soon you will die and my son will be King. My son, a child who will never be a man, will rule. You have brought ruin upon my child and your country.”

“Jane please. He will rule well, he is a sweet smart boy, and he will grow.”

“No Henry. He is too sweet, he will be abused by those already in power. And he will die. A mother knows these things when she watches over her children. He will die young and unwed having fathered no children. You have made it so.”

“Jane, oh my sweet Jane im so sorry.”

She once would have been moved by his repentance and his tears, but no longer.

“Goodbye Henry”

He did not call out for her to stop. Perhaps if he had she might have, but she was a flight of fancy for him, nothing more. He died in January. Her son was crowned King, and she had to struggle to balance her pride in him and her fear for him.


End file.
